


An Abundance of Daffodils

by ordanary



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Future talk, M/M, phil's dumb but also v effective way of helping dan unwind from frustrating experience, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordanary/pseuds/ordanary
Summary: Phil’s going to propose. He’s got the ring, he's mentally prepared himself for the start of forever with his favourite person; all he has left to do is wait for the perfect time. Only after months, Phil’s beginning to think that maybe such a time doesn't exist. And then something unexpected happens.





	An Abundance of Daffodils

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lestered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lestered/gifts).



> hello !! this is my spring exchange fic for @diamondstheyfade !! it took forever and like five drafts but it’s here and i really hope you enjoy it !! <3 
> 
> this is my interpretation of the prompt: 
> 
> just any oneshot-type scene where one of them helps the other unwind from a stressful situation/experience 
> 
> a special thank you to my beta reader, the lovely @zozeewrites !! 
> 
> hope you enjoy !!

Phil Lester is terrible with names. He can’t remember what his favourite movie was as a kid or the exact reason he was late for dinner with friends last week. He couldn’t name more than perhaps fifteen students from his graduating year of high school, including himself, and he doesn’t quite recall how he first learned to tie his shoelaces. Hell, he can’t even remember what he ate for dinner last night. 

No matter how hard he tries to train his brain, things just don’t seem to stick for Phil. They never have, and he doubts they ever will. He’s made peace with that; it’s not like he’s got Alzheimer’s or anything. He’s just forgetful. 

Only there is one thing, one idea, that Phil hasn’t been able to get out of his usually forgetful brain in months. The thought has always been there, dwelling inside his head and heart since all the way back in 2009. 

It’s always been one of those things, like the concept of going off to university for anyone under the age of eighteen – something distant and out of reach, at least as things stand. But Phil’s been that inexperienced kid before, he’s been to uni and back with a daunting future to spare. Countless times, he’s passed through the door from one room to another, and he’s currently stood in a new threshold. 

Phil wants to marry Dan. 

It’s something that they’ve talked about before, of course, but always as a what-if or a someday. But lately, after ten years, Phil’s been thinking that maybe someday is now. Because if not now, then when? He doesn’t want to wait anymore. 

So one cloudy Saturday morning in May, Phil checks to make sure Dan’s still asleep before scrawling out a quick note on his whereabouts and sticking it under his boyfriend’s coffee cup. The note reads that he’ll be back by ten o’clock after helping their friend Louise with some errands – but that’s a lie. In reality, he’s finally taking the first step in the process of asking Dan to marry him: getting the ring. 

He made sure to phone and make an appointment with the jeweller for an hour before their shop actually opens, ensuring that no one will see him in the busy jewelry shop and recognize him from the internet. 

Phil doesn’t usually mind running into their viewers in public – in fact, he finds it fascinating to be able to relate the commenters under his videos with real faces belonging to real people. But on the other hand, he doesn’t exactly need someone posting photos of him at a jeweller’s and making Dan suspicious. 

It takes a little while, a bit of back and forth between choices, but finally Phil makes a decision about the ring. The one he chooses is rather small compared to some of the flashier choices some prefer, and a bit more on the masculine side, as well. A thin, silver band with three small black diamonds in the centre. It’s perfect, he thinks with a smile as he calls for a cab to pick him up a block away from the jeweller’s – it’s perfect for Dan.

All the way home, Phil is vehemently aware of the ring box in his coat pocket. In the cab, it’s a good kind of awareness; a reminder that this is as real as his love for Dan. He holds the hard box in his pocket for the whole ride, thumb running over the smooth outside material. 

But then he has to get out of the cab, and the closer he gets to their apartment door, the more his anxiety builds. Suddenly the weight of that little box in his pocket isn’t appreciated nearly as much as it was just moments ago. Hand still on the ring box, he presses it into his side in an attempt to hide it from sight. He’d feel rather silly if he spent all that time organizing a before-hours meeting with the jeweller only to have his motives exposed the second he walks into their apartment, and merely by the small bulge in his side. 

Holding his breath as he goes, Phil quietly makes his way into the kitchen, where he finds his note still tucked under Dan’s coffee cup, unmoved. He exhales. Phil reckons that's a good sign, scrunching the paper up in a small ball and tossing it in the bin. There’s no point in Dan seeing it now if he hadn’t before. He must be asleep.

He peeks his head in their bedroom briefly and confirms his suspicions. Dan is still very asleep, sprawled out haphazardly on their king-sized mattress with his head on Phil’s side and his feet on his own. He’s drooling – Phil can tell as much by the little dark spot on his previously monochromatic pillowcase – and his curly hair is a frizzy mass that probably needs to be cut soon. All in all, Dan’s a little messy right now as he lies unconscious, but Phil still thinks he’s gorgeous. 

He cracks a smile before turning around to go hide the ring box behind their dusty pile of stage props in the utility closet. He can't wait to marry this beautiful mess.

***

The first twenty-four hours after he brings the ring home are stressful. He’s a bit jumpy whenever Dan passes the door to the hallway closet, anticipating the worst. With his luck, Dan will just randomly decide to clean out the closet and clear all of the TATINOF props from the floor, revealing his secret before Phil can even pop the question. 

He knows that specific scenario is unlikely, but that doesn’t keep him from jumping a bit every single time Dan so much as glances in that direction.

As time passes, though, Phil’s nerves do, too. He even begins to forget the ring’s existence after two weeks of their usual domestic rhythm. 

It’s only one night, as they’re both pressed close together on the bed watching television, that the ring pops into his head once more. Only, it’s not because he’s anxious, or scared of what outcome it might bring. 

Right now, in this relaxed and quiet moment, everything just feels overwhelmingly right. 

His hand is playing with Dan’s soft curls, the latter’s head resting against his chest. Phil can see Dan’s eyes fluttering open and shut every now and then like he’s struggling to stay awake, though he can’t think of a reason why that’d be necessary. 

It’s just them and the low hum of whatever movie is playing on screen before them. Everything is calm and serene, and Phil doesn’t ever want to disturb this little bubble of peace they’re currently residing in. 

So even though it feels like it might be the right time, Phil doesn’t propose just yet. He decides to let lovely be. 

“Hey, Dan?” he half-whispers, careful not to speak too loud and risk tainting the moment. 

Dan hums, golden-brown eyes shifting up to look at his boyfriend’s. 

The corners of Phil's mouth lift just the slightest bit. “Just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

Rolling his eyes to the lazy extent that his wavering consciousness allows, Dan smiles back. His eyes return to the TV screen. “I love you too, cheeseball.”

Phil decides to ignore the fact that Dan just dared to call him by his enemy’s name. He’ll get him back for that later. For now, he just wants to have his hands in Dan’s hair and his lips to the back of his head. 

He’s been going steady with Dan for a decade and neither of them is going anywhere soon, so he can wait a little longer before taking their relationship to the next level. 

So he leans to the side a bit and presses a quick kiss to Dan’s temple, basking in the glow of the latter’s smile in return. No, waiting shouldn’t be all that hard. 

***

As it turns out, waiting is incredibly and unbearably difficult. 

Phil feels like a fifteen-year-old again, keeping secrets from his parents. Only, the secret he’s keeping isn’t a dirty magazine under his bed, it’s an engagement ring in the utility closet. 

He’s even beginning to think that perhaps buying the ring in the first place was a bad idea. Before it was in his possession, he could just pass it off as another important thing he was procrastinating on, but now? Now it’s a work in progress, and Phil doesn’t like having unfinished work. 

“Phil? Did you take it?” Dan asks, bursting Phil’s toxically contemplative bubble of thought. He’s referring to the phone in his hand, camera app open and Phil’s thumb hovering over the ‘capture’ button. 

They’re out in the park, just him and Dan, taking Instagram photos for the latter’s new bit of merch. It’s early June now, and the weather is just too beautiful to pass up. Dan’s currently modelling a new version of the ‘Have The Courage to Exist’ shirt, leaning against a big oak tree and pouting at the camera like a professional. 

Except he’s actually pouting because Phil’s been zoned out for the last few minutes, only giving short nods and vague hums whenever Dan asked whether his posture was good or not. He’s distracted today.

“Hmm?” Phil's eyes widen in acknowledgement. “Sorry?’

Sighing, Dan moves away from the tree and stands across from Phil. He crosses his arms. “Are you okay today?” he asks. “You seem really distant.”

Phil doesn’t respond in any way other than shaking his head and forcing a smile. “We’ll talk later, but get back over there and be the model you were born to be.” 

When Dan doesn’t argue, he breathes a sigh of relief. Phil really is having an off day, and it has almost nothing to do with the ring. Sure, thinking about that little silver band isn’t quite making things any easier for him at the moment, but he thinks it’s all-in-all just one of those days; a slow and stupid and grey day. 

And considering he’s supposed to be having fun at the park with his partner in this beautiful weather, taking photos for Instagram and eating homemade sandwiches on some aesthetically pleasing park bench, he’s really not having it today. Phil wishes that today was tomorrow so that he’d be able to enjoy himself and not be an absolute miserable psychopath.

He feels bad in thinking that last bit, because he knows Dan has bad days too, and Dan’s not a psychopath. Phil’s been living with him for ten years, so he’d know if his boyfriend were a psychopath. 

When both Dan and Phil come to the consensus that there are enough good photos to pause their mini-photoshoot, they settle at the base of the big tree and unpack the sandwiches from their bag. Dan made himself a BLT. he tried being vegan again for a few months at the beginning of the year, but that just didn’t work out too well. Phil, on the other hand, has stuffed pretty much every topping imaginable in between his two slices of bread – or at least everything except for cheese. 

His motto might be ‘Try New Things’, but cheese is still the one exception to that rule. 

“Are you just having a bad day?” Dan asks after an acceptable amount of silence. 

Phil contemplates this. What he’s feeling is the numbness of a bad day, but it’s also anger that his brain is doing this to him right now and the new everpresent worry that he’ll never get the chance to propose to Dan because it’s been over a month and a half since he bought the ring and he’s waiting for the ‘perfect moment’, which may or may not be a myth made up by romance movies and love songs to fool the sappy portion of the population. E.g. Phil Lester.

So no, he’s not ‘just having a bad day’ but he can’t exactly tell Dan that. He nods instead. That’s definitely easier. 

“Okay.” Dan nods too, slower. “Wanna talk, or no?”

“I love you, but no.”

“Okay,” he repeats.

Phil hums. 

They fall back into silence while they finish their sandwiches, backs pressed to the lumpy stump of the big tree and shoulders pressed together. He doesn’t really want to have an uber deep conversation about feelings in the park, but he still likes the physical contact; it’s comforting. 

After a while, though, Phil does want to talk again. He just doesn’t want to talk about anything involving feelings, especially his particular feelings on this particular day. 

Objective: avoid discussing anything too personal and emotional with Dan and getting even more upset than he already inexplicably is.

“I like it when London is warm,” he says. He knows it’s painfully typical, starting a conversation by mentioning the weather, but it’s all he’s got right now.

Dan nods. “Me too.”

“It’s rare.”

A hum. Phil stops himself from continuing this specific stream of blabber because he hates how much it sounds like he’s talking to a stranger on the tube. He figures it must be twice as patronizing for Dan, the tube-stranger. 

“What should we do together?” Phil asks instead. He sounds both like he’s planning an evening itinerary and like a poorly prepared tour guide. 

Another hum, this one of the confused sort. 

“Like, in our life together. What should we do?” 

He doesn’t actually know why he’s asking Dan this question. It feels like the more intense version of what you’d ask someone on the first date, but it’s roughly what Phil’s been thinking about for the past month and a half, so he doesn’t care.

Dan tilts his head back against the bark of the big tree, exhaling through his nose. His eyes are dancing over the green leaves above them and he looks like he’s really thinking hard about his answer. 

“I want us to move into a forever home, and get married, and then adopt some babies and raise children just as weird are we are. We should probably go back to Japan before we do that, though, because kids are too wild to stay eleven hours on a plane. We’ll get dogs first. Oh! And Australia! They have big spiders, but I wanna go there again - just us this time-”

He keeps going, listing all sorts of milestones and places that he’d like the two of them to conquer, but Phil is already starting to zone out. 

Dan said he wants to marry Phil. Even though he wasn’t at all specific about timelines and Phil perhaps totally led the conversation in that direction, this somehow eases some of the weight on his shoulders. At least he knows now that he isn’t alone in this desire, and that maybe there’s hope that this can happen soon. It‘s not the first step in the plan that Dan had explained, but what does that matter? It’s probably the easiest. 

For the first time in a month and a half, Phil watches as the ‘perfect time’ begins to unfold itself before his very eyes. He wonders if the universe was listening to him all those times he begged for everything to fall perfectly into place, for an opening to arise. Is this his opening? He ignores the obvious opportunity to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke in his head and feels the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly as Dan continues to ramble about the future he wants for them. 

He’s going to propose, and he’s totally going to do it right now. He may not have the ring on him or have any sort of proposal speech prepared in the least bit, but he can’t waste this opportunity. 

Phil interrupts Dan by pressing their lips together and his hand to the latter’s cheek. He has to break away though when his smile grows too big to contain. Dan’s smiling now too, laughing at this sudden outburst of affection. Phil’s so heated up about popping the question that he doesn’t even care to look around and make sure no one saw that, though he’s pretty sure they picked a secluded enough place. 

Dan, recovering from his slightly flustered state, continues his list. It’s extending into all the fun landmarks they should visit in the future, including all the places they went together in the beginning.

“When we have kids, we’ll need to come up with an excuse just to show them our Manchester apartment, and of course our current one too, because by then we’ll be living in our forever home and be well out of there.”

And Phil thinks he’s going to ask him now, that he has to ask him now. He can’t not take advantage of this beautiful opportunity the universe has presented him with, even though he knows Dan doesn’t believe in any of that universe “bullshit”. It’s the right time, the ‘perfect time’ that he’s been waiting so long for. It would almost be criminal if he didn’t propose-

“I mean, it kinda sucks that we’ll have to wait a few years to do any of that, but work is just too busy right now, you know? I’m excited for when we do get the opportunity to do all that stuff. As long as I’m with you, I can wait.”

Phil smiles a tight smile and nods. He swallows the four words that were about to leave his mouth. He feels guilty that he can’t be as patient and optimistic as Dan is in this moment. Everything sucks. Phil sucks.

Objective: avoid discussing anything too personal and emotional with Dan and getting even more upset than he already inexplicably is.

Result: objective failed. 

***

It’s been two months since the whole failed proposal debacle, and Phil’s basically given up on even thinking about proposing. 

Of course, he still wants to marry Dan, but the aforementioned was right when he said things are too busy right now. He should just wait until everything calms down for real and the time is perfect like he thought it’d been last time. Except even more perfect. Such a time will arise, and that won’t take too long, right? 

Right, he tells himself over and over again.

Phil’s currently busying himself in the kitchen with toast, because thinking about toast is easier than thinking about how long it’ll be before he can marry Dan. So he makes toast. 

Dan’s out, picking up a few small things from the store. He’s been gone a while, longer than it typically takes to pick up a few boxes of tissues and milk. He briefly considers texting him to make sure he’s alright, but knowing Dan he probably just got distracted while walking past an animal shelter or something equally as adorable. 

Either way, he’s not worried. 

The toaster pops and Phil pulls his toast out using his fingers, which proves to be a bad idea as soon as he remembers that freshly popped toast is very hot and skin is very susceptible to burning. He drops it on the cutting board with an “Ow!” and sticks his two burnt fingers in his mouth. This really doesn’t help, but he does it anyway.

Once the tips of his fingers have stopped stinging, he grabs a knife from the drawer and stabs his other piece of toast, extracting it smoothly from the offending toaster. He knows very well that putting a metal knife in a toaster probably isn’t the safest course of action, but Dan’s currently not around to tell him not to do it, so it’s whatever.

After peanut-buttering and jellying his toast, he leans casually against the counter and takes a bite. It’s good toast, maybe even great toast. Phil spends the next five minutes compiling a list of all components to great toast. And then, the door opens. 

He was so distracted thinking about toast that he didn’t even hear Dan inserting his key on the other side of the door, but now he’s making his way into the kitchen where Phil stands and he’s impossible to miss; partially because he’s absolutely drenched in water and partially because he looks about ready to lethally harm someone. Phil wasn’t aware it’d been raining, but he doesn’t think that’s his biggest issue right now. 

He drops what’s left of his toast back onto the cutting board and takes a few cautious steps forward, careful not to cause the volcano that is Dan to erupt. 

“You okay?” he asks warily, voice slow.

Dan just glares before shaking his head. He doesn’t look upset, just angry. Very, very angry.

Phil nods. “Okay.” He gestures to the small grocery bag in Dan’s hand. “Give me the bag to unpack and go get changed into dry clothes. Then come tell me what happened?”

Dan grunts a “thanks” and hands Phil the bag before disappearing down the hallway and into their room. 

Judging by the actual contents of the bag, Dan doesn’t seem to have bought anything other than the milk and two boxes of tissues. This makes Phil’s both curious and a bit scared to learn why his boyfriend was so late getting back and looks so rage-filled all of the sudden. 

When he first left the house to run this errand, Dan was in a good mood; it was why he offered to go in the first place. So with this in mind, something really piss-off worthy must’ve happened within the hour’s time of which he was gone. For a split second, Phil worries that it might have something to do with the ring, like maybe Dan found out somehow and is angry that Phil would even consider fucking up their lives with that kind of stress anytime soon. 

That’s not possible though, or at least that’s what he tells himself. He puts away the milk and tissue boxes, composing himself just in time for Dan to emerge in a sweatshirt and pyjama bottoms. He still looks like he wants to punch someone in the head, but now he’s dry.

Dan comes to lean against the island opposite Phil, however his posture is rigid and guarded in comparison to Phil’s. “So I was at the convenience store,” he begins. 

“I figured.”

“And I managed to get our stuff and get in line in good time.”

A hum from Phil. He can already hear the anger bubbling in Dan’s tone. 

“It was my turn to check out, right? But then this stupid fucking lady just walks up to the till, the only till because it’s a convenience store, not a fucking Tesco, and she starts mouthing off to the cashier. Like, out of nowhere, she just starts yelling about the ‘bad customer service’ and the ‘unwelcoming staff’ and we’re in a fucking Circle K!”

Phil’s face remains neutral as Dan continues to ramble on about this rude lady and her asinine complaints about everything and everyone the store had to offer. 

“So then the girl on cash, who looked like she wasn’t even eighteen, apologizes and tells her that they’re understaffed but that she needs to get back in line like the rest of the customers, and she just looks at me with the dirtiest look and says ‘Oh, this boy can wait’. She told me to fucking wait! After I’d already been standing there for ten minutes listening to this bitch complain about things that made absolutely no sense, and- Phil? why are you smiling? This isn’t funny.”

Phil’s caught off guard by this question, and then he realizes that he actually is smiling. It’s a small smile, but it's there- and he’s not exactly sure why. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, keep going. I’m listening.”

Dan keeps going, and really, Phil completely understands why his boyfriend looks so angry. This lady – Mary, Dan says her name was –sounds like an absolute bitch, and he’s not one to use that word lightly. 

At some point, while he’s telling him about the bogus excuses the woman used in order to try and get free items from this poor, underaged and overworked employee, Phil zones out a little bit. Dan’s words begin to fade out after a while and all he can seem to focus on is how even though it sounds like Dan’s had one hell of an hour and his hair is still soaked from the supposed torrential downpour outside, Phil thinks he looks beautiful, even perfect. 

Well, Phil understands that there’s not really such a thing as perfect, but Dan is pretty close. 

“And then she demands all of her stuff, which is a lot, be free. And she didn’t even say please! After all that!”

So it’s now as Dan’s rambling on and on about this obnoxious woman from the convenience store that Phil makes a realization: if there’s no such thing as perfect appearance, or a perfect mellifluous voice, or a perfect anything for that matter, then how on earth is a ‘perfect time’ supposed to exist? 

It’s a bit silly, he thinks, feeling the need to bring everything back around to that stupid ring in the closet. But on the other hand, this is what he’s been waiting for for months; not the perfect time, but perhaps the time in which he realizes that there’s no such thing. No matter how hard the concept has been shoved down his throat, he realizes now that nothing will ever fall perfectly into place like in the movies. There will be no calm in their busy lives, no break in the chaos. It just doesn’t exist, and Phil is suddenly done waiting.

He feels like he’s made an absolute breakthrough discovery, like he’s Sir Isaac Newton and this is the apple that’s fallen atop his head; the universe doesn’t design its paths specifically for you, you just follow them down until the end with the faith that they won’t lead you wrong. 

Or maybe he’s getting a little too philosophical. Pun intended. And maybe it’s not the time for puns right now, but he’s in the middle of breaking down the idea of the ‘perfect time’, so that’s irrelevant. 

Regardless, in all reality, the chances of Dan and Phil ever getting the proper time to do what they want in life is slim, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. 

Phil instantly wants to scream because he’s easily spent the last few months waiting for a very specific time that would never truly come. It’s infuriating, really. There were all these reasons keeping him from doing what he’d set out to do ages ago, like their current circumstances and the expectations already laid out for him.

Media had truly led him to believe that there was such thing as a perfect time, that things would sooner or later fall perfectly into place and that everything would be so perfectly perfect that the definition of said word would change to a picture of their engagement scene. 

Perfect doesn’t exist though. Phil thinks this again as he half-listens to Dan’s story about Mary, the painfully rude and annoying customer in line behind him, because in a perfect world there would be no Mary to complain about and he also probably wouldn’t be thinking about proposing to Dan while he’s mid-rant. But god, does he ever love Dan, so he is going to do it right now. Waiting is stupid. 

“Wanna marry me?”

Dan stops talking. His eyebrows furrow, and Phil’s got this smile on his lips that’s hopeful and amorous and excited in a way that he hasn’t felt in a while.

“Do I wanna-?”

“Marry me, yeah.”

Shifting on his feet, Dan gives him a confused smile. “Well I mean, yeah, of course I do? But what does that have to do with my bad Circle K experience?” 

A laugh erupts from Phil’s throat because this is random and exciting and unexpected. Without giving him anymore context, Phil says, “One minute,” and then walks down the hall to open the utility closet. He’s sure he looks like a jittery mess as he goes, but that’s not important. 

“Okay, Phil,” shouts Dan from the kitchen, where he’s peeking his head out to watch him dig through the closet. “I’m really confused and . . . slightly concerned.” 

Phil chuckles to himself but doesn’t say anything back. 

“Are you somehow high? Did you sniff one marker too many while I was gone or something?” 

Nope. 

While it’s view is still shielded by the closet, Phil runs his thumb over the surface of the ring box. He’s doing this, it’s happening. Timing is bullshit, he tells himself. He has to make his own future. 

So he closes the closet door, walks back out with the ring box in the back pocket of his jeans, and reclaims his position across from Dan. For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Every nerve in his body is electric, and each pulse of his heart is an ounce of the courage he needs in order to say what he’s about to. 

His smile widens, because he’s ready now.

“Dan?”

The aforementioned nods, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a nervous but excited kind of way, too. Phil thinks he knows.

“I know that I was just a terrible listener - like honestly, an absolutely horrible listener, which isn’t very good.” 

Dan laughs.

“But I was listening for the most part, and when I wasn’t listening, I was thinking about how much I love listening to you. Which is ironic.” Another laugh. “I was thinking about how much I love hearing about your weird dreams, and your good days, and your obnoxiously horrible days - And while I was thinking about this, it also occurred to me that I wanna listen to everything you have to say for the rest of my life.”

Dan’s beginning to look like he might burst into tears at any moment and it’s oddly encouraging for Phil. It’s also a great contrast from the passionate anger his features hosted just minutes ago. 

He continues, “I wanna share everything with you, Dan.” That’s when he decides the moment is right, or as right as it’ll ever be. Phil pulls the ring box from his back pocket and gets down onto one knee. It’s a surreal feeling; he’s living the role he’s seen so many heartthrobs on TV play. 

However, he has to chuckle a bit when Dan slowly joins him on the kitchen floor, leaning back against the island and sitting cross-legged with a gigantic grin on his face. Phil matches it. “Dan, I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here too,” he laughs.

Dan’s voice is shaky, but in a good way. “If I stand up I’ll fall over.”

“Do you need water? Like, are you okay-?”

“Phil, shut up and keep proposing to me, please.”

With a laugh and a grin, Phil settles cross-legged on the floor as well. The ring box is now open in his lap, but Dan’s brown eyes haven't moved from his. 

“Okay, well basically what I’m trying to say is that I really love you, like, a lot.” He takes a deep breath. In and then out. “Daniel Howell, will you do me the absolute pleasure of becoming my husband?”

His response is immediate; “Fuck yes, oh my god.”

Phil removes the ring from the box and carefully places it on Dan’s shaky left ring finger. And then, before he can really process what’s happening, Dan’s mouth is pressed to his and their lips are moving together as if they’re meant for each other’s touch. As lovely as it is, though, the kiss doesn’t last long as they’re both smiling like idiots and it becomes a pretty impossible feat. 

Regardless, they both seem pretty content to sit next to one another on the kitchen floor, bodies pressed close together like that hopelessly hopeful day at the park. Dan won’t stop grinning, and Phil just can’t stop looking at that damn ring on Dan’s finger. For nearly four months it lay buried behind a pile of TATINOF props in their utility closet, causing more grief for Phil than he finds justifiable – and now it’s where it belongs, where Phil thought for a while that he might never see it.

“I think your toast is cold by now,” says Dan after a few moments of comfortable silence. 

Phil only laughs. His toast; he’d forgotten about that. He pulls Dan closer to his chest and presses a kiss to the top of his slightly damp head. His hair still somehow smells like strawberries.

“Fuck my toast,” he says. “I like you much more than I like toast.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !! comments and kudos are super appreciated :)


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